


A World In Perfect Imbalance

by KayCeeCruz



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Complete, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-28
Updated: 2011-11-28
Packaged: 2017-10-26 15:22:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/284817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayCeeCruz/pseuds/KayCeeCruz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	A World In Perfect Imbalance

**Author's Note:**

> Story is set in future after _Torchwood_ Season 2 and _Doctor Who_ Season 4. Done for LJ's TheStop Watch Summer Fic Exchange 2008. Thanks to April for the beta.  <3

Jack breathed deeply, eyes glancing up at the stars, visible even in the overcast night sky. Heart constricted, yearning, pulled to the vast, unending wonders of the universe as it always was. That would be there until...

Forever in his case.

He was aware that tonight’s want to escape had more to do with not wanting to face the wrath he imagined was waiting for him.

“Bloody moron.”

Jack had no clue how he had buggered everything so thoroughly.

 

###

 

“More training?” Mickey eyed Jack suspiciously. “For what? We’ve been fighting off hordes of slimy aliens and weevils and gobs of radioactive goo monsters, or whatever you call them, for weeks now. If the hands-on practice didn’t help, I don’t know what will.” Arms crossed, he glanced at Ianto as he passed his side, carrying a tray of tea. “Tell him I’m right, Yan?”

Ianto opened his mouth to speak, but Jack cut in quickly.

“I’m the team leader, Micks. It’s my call, and I said you need more training.” He chose not to look back at Ianto, but could feel the quick cut of his glare on his back.

Ianto turned to Mickey. “You see, Mickey, Jack gets to make all the decisions without consulting anyone.” Then, to Jack, he spoke with barely concealed rage. “Everything is set, sir. We can get started whenever you want.” He paused. “ _Captain_.”

Jack winced but only nodded in response. Of course, Ianto was ready. He was always ready. Always knowing what Jack - or any of them - needed before they asked. Always willing to help. Always throwing himself at danger without thinking.

“Everyone down to the training room. Now.”

Martha raised an eyebrow in question but said nothing, and milled out of the room behind Mickey and a rather irritated Ianto. Gwen paused and stared at Jack for a long moment.

“Is this about what happened last week, Jack? He had it under -”

“Downstairs, Gwen.”

“Is this what this fight of yours-”

“Gwen.”

Gwen sighed. “Fine.”

Jack straightened his shoulders and followed behind, lagging inside the training room door as he observed his team in various stages of preparation. His eyes found Ianto at the last row, gun in hand, waiting. He caught Jack’s gaze, eyebrow cocking slightly before looking away.

First up would be marksmanship. Jack nodded when he was ready, and seconds later the room was filled with the echoed sound of guns shooting off. The smell of gun powder, metal and heat was overwhelming. The sight of Ianto with a gun, face arranged with a purpose, mouth set in a hard line went straight to Jack’s heart.

And other places he knew would be better off not thought of.

When they had finished, he quickly examined each one, finding the team was overall on track. Reaching Ianto, he blinked at the results, looking up with a blank expression. “Ninety-nine percent? That’s…”

“Bloody good!” Mickey whooped from a few rows back, and Jack ignored him. Like he ignored what that score could mean.

“Not bad.”

Ianto only said, “Thank you, sir.”

They went forward to hand to hand combat. Martha needed more work. What Mickey lacked in style was made up in strength. Gwen gave him a long workout, taking him by surprise a few times. When Ianto stood in front of him, Jack swallowed and nodded when he was ready.

Ianto took him down so quickly that Jack had no idea how he had fallen to the floor. He glanced up at his -- Ianto, catching the barely contained anger on his face.

Jack nodded as Gwen helped him up. “Well done, everyone.”

He saw the tick in Ianto’s cheek as if waiting for something.

Nothing happened.

He knew that he was being unreasonable. That Ianto deserved praise, but… Jack couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Not after what had occurred.

It was during the simulated attack training that it finally happened. The simulation chamber was something they had been working on for some time. The program was some of Tosh’s finest work and they were more than ready to test it.

When everyone was getting started, slipping into their vests and headgear, Jack walked over to Ianto. “We need someone to monitor from the outside. That’s your job, Ianto.”

Silence fell over the room, no one daring to breathe, all eyes lobbying from Ianto’s face to Jack’s.

Ianto nodded. “I see.” Calmly taking off his headgear, he set it down on a nearby table. “Listen to me, Harkness. I am not a child. Nor am I some rookie who has no clue what he’s dealing with. I’ve seen more horror than I care to remember. I’ve lived through it. I’m useful in the field, Jack.”

“You’re not meant for field work, Ianto.”

Ianto nodded. “This is about that Wraith attack, isn‘t it?”

“They almost killed you.”

“I had it under control, Jack! Until you bumbled in to save me, that is.”

“He was going to kill you.”

“He got the upper hand because you distracted me!” Ianto flailed. He actually, literally, flailed his arms, and if Jack hadn’t been so angry, he would have found that more than a little amusing. “You’re the one who wouldn’t let me go out there. So, exactly how was it my fault that they came through the rift right inside the hub?”

Jack folded his arms. “That’s not the point.”

Ianto cocked his head, narrowed his eyes before speaking. “No, that is the point.” He placed his firearm on the low table at his side, strode across the room and out of the door before anyone could say or do anything else.

Three pairs of accusing eyes stared at Jack.

“What?”

Martha shook her head and proceeded to follow Ianto out of the room. Mickey stared at him.

“You are daft. Too many deaths have whacked up your head.” He turned to Gwen and marveled, “How is it none of you have tried to kill him yet?”

Gwen replied, eyebrow raising at Jack, trying to communicate something to him. “Who says we haven’t?” To Jack, she said, “You are without a doubt the dumbest man to walk the earth, Jack. It might have been easier just telling him how you felt. Asking. But no…” Muttering about men and a “stupid gene,” Gwen disappeared through the doorway, Mickey lagging slightly behind in case she suddenly realized *he* was a man and attacked.

Once the room was vacant and he could think, Jack heard how he sounded. He recognized that sometimes he wasn’t the brightest bulb in the pack. He admitted (only to himself, of course) he’d been trying to prove to Ianto he wasn’t ready for field work, only to get beaten at his own game by his freakishly competent tea boy lover.

“Daft doesn’t begin to cover it.”

 

###

Walking in the chilly Cardiff night, Jack let his mind call him all the names Ianto was surely saying. He missed him. The long walk from the Hub to Ianto’s flat (Jack still thought of it that way, no amount of time spent there changed that) was silent and solemn. He was used to the quiet presence that was Ianto. It would force him to talk things out. On the rare occasion that Ianto had digested one too many cups of tea, Jack would have the pleasure of listening to Ianto’s often not filtered thoughts.

Jack’s step faltered for just a moment as he passed the dark alley just down the corner from Ianto’s. When neither of them could wait to get to the house, Jack would push Ianto, or be pushed _by_ Ianto, against the brick wall. Memories of skin and teeth and heat flooded him and he smiled, despite the fact that he was about to get yelled at. Or left once more.

He hated when Ianto was angry at him. It tilted his world too much. As if the center was in a state of disintegration and Jack was about to lose his balance. Knowing this, he always wondered why he went out of his way to shove Ianto away. Why he sought the imbalance of his life.

Reaching the stairs to Ianto’s flat, Jack rubbed one hand over his face. This wasn’t going to be easy. Ianto was probably in there, upset. Or mad. Or both.

He didn’t use his key like normal. He wasn’t sure if he was welcome, and he’d angered Ianto enough for one day. The knock sounded hollow and loud in the quiet emptiness around him. He made out some shuffling, a muttered curse, and then the door was opening and Ianto’s blue eyes stared at him.

“Jack?” He looked… confused? Why did he look confused? Ianto stepped back, allowing Jack to enter. “Where are your keys?”

“I wasn’t sure… I mean, after...” Jack was aware he might be rambling just a bit. “After today…”

“Today?”

“Have I gone mad or did we not have a fight?”

It seemed to dawn on Ianto what Jack was talking about, and he nodded. “Oh, that. You being a wanker. That’s not new, Jack.”

“Well, that’s true. I just figured you would be upset.” Jack cast a glance around the room, just to be assured he was still in the right flat. “But… I guess I was wrong.”

“I am angry,” Ianto said, matter-of-factly. He helped Jack with his precious coat, flicking it once to remove any water or dirt it might have attracted, before efficiently hanging it up in its usual position. “Quite angry, actually.”

Jack followed Ianto slowly through the living area into the kitchen, watching as he poured them both some tea, and when he handed it to Jack, their fingers brushed briefly. Sparks. Always sparks and warmth and yearning. It still took Jack by surprise how much he felt with Ianto. He followed Ianto out of the kitchen and back into the living area, sipping at the warm liquid, tasting the bitterness of ginger and the sweetness of honey.

Bittersweet.

That was them in a nutshell.

“Okay.” His voice was unsure because Jack was himself that way. He had no idea what was going on, but he was waiting for that other shoe to drop. For Ianto to have reached his limit.

Ianto turned to him when he heard the tone. His head tilted slightly to the side and he spoke quietly. “It’s still separate, Jack. That’s how you said you wanted it. What we do here at home and what we do at work -- they are separate.” Setting aside his cup, Ianto closed in on Jack, his gaze taking in all of the captain. “I’ll give you hell tomorrow. I‘ll fight you every step of the way because I know you‘re wrong.” Ianto had one hand on Jack’s shirt, fingers deftly working off the buttons. “Believe me. I have no plans of letting you off the hook.”

Jack arched back as Ianto’s warm hand slid down his chest, tickling the hairs that led from his stomach down into his pants. His eyes closed involuntarily when that able hand reached down and cupped his hard cock through a layer of cotton. He swallowed convulsively, realizing he was still holding his drink in one hand, and Jack tried not to let it drop.

“Wait.” Ianto’s movements stopped, and when Jack opened his eyes, he was staring into those blue eyes again. “I need to put this down, or you’ll have one hell of a stain on the carpet.” Jack smiled a little. “And _that_ you’ll never forgive me.”

“You know me well, Captain.” Ianto allowed Jack enough time to settle his drink down before pulling their bodies flush against one another. “You have too many clothes on, sir.” Ianto pulled at the shirt, grasping and yanking until he had managed to discard it. His hands smoothed over the muscle on Jack’s shoulder and down his back, coming to rest on Jack’s ass, pushing Jack closer.

The feel of Ianto’s shirt against his warm, bare skin produced a loud groan from Jack, and he bit his lips when those hands began to work on his pants again. They slid to the floor effortlessly, and Ianto wasted no time in palming Jack’s cock once more. His hands cupping and stroking, holding Jack’s waist with one hand as he worked him with the other.

Jack leaned down, forehead touching the top of Ianto’s head. Sometimes it was all too much. Everything between him and Ianto…

It hadn’t always been that way. When they’d first started, it had been easy. Uncomplicated in its own convoluted way. And now… it was so much more than either had been looking for… Jack knew that. It could be disaster. He was _sure_ of that.

Ianto’s lips found Jack’s neck, nipping and suckling as he pressed forward. He muttered onto Jack’s skin. “Touch me. Now.” Voice growled, full of anger and need and uninhibited desire.

Jack obeyed, trailing his hand over clothes until he found the front of Ianto’s pants, tucking his hands under the waistband of Ianto’s underwear, grasping Ianto and sliding his palm over him, slowly. He felt the sharp intake of Ianto’s breath, the whimpered gasp, run all through him. He loved this power play between them. This place where they were equal. Where no one had to decide the other’s fate.

Ianto’s hand tightened at the end of his strokes, sliding almost off and swiveling at the head, sliding back down. Jack’s hip twitched up into the hand, his breath came in pants, and when he lost his grip on Ianto, he opened his eyes and caught Ianto falling to his knees. Face flushed pink, lips wet and glistening, shirt open… eyes blown so all Jack saw was black. Ianto looking up at him, under eyelashes that drove Jack insane, and it was all Jack could do not to come. When Ianto’s mouth slid over Jack’s cock… sucking, licking, tasting… tongue tracing the vein that ran underneath it, fingers sliding over Jack’s thigh and pushing him in deeper, all the way in… Jack arched back and let go. He fucked Ianto’s mouth, hands holding onto Ianto’s head, fingers gripping hair and scalp. He forgot everything, pushing and feeling and fucking loving it all. He came so quickly that his knees buckled, and it was only Ianto’s grip that kept him from falling completely.

His whole world tilted back.

He watched Ianto looking at him, eyes half open as he stroked himself, and Jack wanted more. Needed more.

“Yan.”

Ianto met his gaze, smiling, the one he saved only for Jack, and shifted closer. Jack’s heart throbbed and tripped over itself. He groaned when Ianto discarded all his clothes and kneeled over Jack, prodding his legs open. Jack allowed him anything he wanted. Ianto’s hands reached for Jack’s hip, pulling him closer, and the burn of the carpet made Jack wince once. Ianto’s movements stopped, his gaze shifted up to look at him, and behind all the desire, Jack saw a flicker of concern. Jack clutched at Ianto’s skin, encouraging, needing him to.

“It’s okay. Just -- Yan. Please.”

It was an eternity between Jack’s pleading words to when he actually felt Ianto inside him. The burning sensation as he was stretched, the throbbing, growing pleasure when Ianto’s cock pushed in all the way. Jack’s hips thrusting up, and they both gasped at once. Wrapping his legs over Ianto’s waist, Jack searched for Ianto’s hands, grabbing and pulling, fighting one another. They held onto skin, onto hair and limbs. Whatever they could find. Ianto flicked his hips harder, faster… losing the rhythm… and Jack met him, their bodies sliding over each other, wet and hot and so perfect it was too much.

When Ianto bent over, close enough that their chests met, their skin touching, he licked a strip up Jack’s neck, tasting the salty sweat on his skin. Jack’s mouth opened under Ianto’s demanding one, and then it was the white rush of pleasure. Ianto’s name flowing out on a moan, and Jack heard the panting of his own name. There was shifting and shivering, the sticky feel of semen between them, the trembling of muscles… until finally they collapsed.

Jack’s hand stroked Ianto’s back, and he muttered into the ear near his mouth. “I just don’t want you hurt. Too much loss already.”

Ianto mumbled into his shoulder, the warmth of his breath on his skin, and Jack almost couldn’t understand what Ianto was saying.

Until he did.

“Not your choice.” Ianto raised his head to look down at Jack. “You can’t stop bad things from happening, sometimes. You know that.”

Jack sighed, hands running through Ianto’s damp hair. “So, you’re still going to be the competent, invaluable bastard you’ve always been, is what you’re saying.”

Ianto grinned. “Correct, Captain.”

Jack rolled his eyes, shifting to press Ianto closer to him. “You’ll be the death of me, Ianto Jones.”

“I highly doubt that, sir.” Ianto’s gaze was amused but touched, and he kissed Jack slowly, sweetly, before pulling back, lips only inches away. “You do realize this changes nothing, Jack.”

Jack blinked, confused at the change of subject, and a little scared now. “What do you mean?”

“I’m still going to make your life hell tomorrow.”

Jack groaned, burying his face behind his arms. “I was afraid of that.”

Ianto’s laughter echoed out into the room, filling up the night, balancing Jack’s world once more...

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is loved and appreciated. Leave here or at [LJ](http://freakykat.livejournal.com/150153.html?mode=reply#add_comment).


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